Between Sleep and Death
by Buddhism
Summary: Based on a writing prompt: What if Mordecai and Rigby actually died in the episode "Meat Your Maker" and everything after that was a hallucination created by Rigby's mind in a moment of despair? Oneshot. Humanized. Somewhat sad. Little bit existential. Kind of confusing. Rated T mostly for safety.


Regardless of the bag of ice he'd put down as a door stop, they'd gotten locked in. He always caused problems like that. Try to fix something minimal like burnt hot dogs, or soggy hot dogs that he'd thrown into the river after burning them, or something like getting himself locked in the meat locker under the house to find more hot dogs. To a certain extent, he was aware that trying to fix the situation again would be in vain but he felt obliged to clean up his mess, just this one time.

The petite brunette looked up at his partner in crime, who seemed more like an accessory having done nothing particularly wrong other than following along with his best friend's eccentric actions that he knew would get him in trouble as usual. When was the last time that the duo got in trouble on his own behalf? A tinge of narcissism lead him to the answer of never. And damn, he thought, it was really cold in that freezer.

"Look at what you did, Rigby!" He exclaimed, throwing his arms up in exclamation.

"I can fix it!" Rigby replied, trying to seem confident through his despair. Having a spontaneous panic attack caused him to rush at the door and attempt to open it, the result came to be a broken handle.

"Great, now look at what you did!" was the reaction he received from his best friend. Mordecai shivered dramatically to prove his point- Rigby's inability to "fix it" had gotten them into this mess. On top of that, the thin t-shirt he was sporting was not intended to be worn in freezing temperatures, thus giving him no protection from the cold whatsoever.

"I can fix it!" Rigby shouted again, before he began on a quest for the thermostat. If he could just warm up the room-even a little-would prove to Mordecai that he wasn't totally inutile.

After finding the thermostat, which he had no clue whatsoever on how to use, he pressed something that looked totally foreign to him but seemed like the option most likely to work at that point. Unfortunately, it caused the room to get even colder and one of the vents broke, releasing more frigid air into the claustrophobic space.

"Ugh, Rigby!" Cried Mordecai as he pressed himself against the tear in the vent to prevent the airfrom entering. In the process, he got hit with the icy breeze against his bare skin.

"I can fix it!"

After a minute purely composed of an argument between the duo over who got them into this situation that ended in Mordecai folding his arms and giving Rigby the cold shoulder before he collapsed from the cold, Rigby understood the severity of the situation. He promptly removed his sweater and fumbled Mordecai into it. Even though it was large on him, it seemed tight on his best friend who was a little under a foot taller more than him and nearly twice his weight (muscle alone!). Rigby frowned at the unconscious man and shivered. He really screwed it up big this time.

Meanwhile Mordecai was dreaming of the two hottest things in his life- Margaret and the beach.

Rigby was really determined to get them out of this mess, he even vowed to himself and to the god that he wasn't quite sure whether or not he believed in that he would never get them into trouble ever again if they made it out alive. He dragged Mordecai around with him as he searched for an alternative escape route. He didn't know how much time he wasted doing that but he was pretty sure it was forever, as impatience and discomfort never made keeping good track of time very plausible.

He let Mordecai down and slouched down next to him, enjoying the peaceful expression worn by his best friend in his time of innocence. He could imagine Mordecai's mother creeping into his room at night to check on him to find an angel where her son was supposed to be. Even the ugliest person must look beautiful in their sleep, thought Rigby, even Muscle Man I bet. That isn't to say that Mordecai was unattractive, but the sexiness that he tried to portray when awake was non-existent at the time. Rigby felt his friend's face, somewhat attempting to caress it but more to check on his temperature. Mordecai was really cold.

Then Rigby realized he wasn't breathing.

His first response was to shake Mordecai awake, something he regretted not doing sooner. When that didn't work, he attempted CPR like he'd seen in the movies, but the movies he'd seen didn't have such great representations of what actual CPR looked like anyway. He tried to take Mordecai's pulse, but he couldn't find one. He'd rest his head against Mordecai's chest and listen for a few minutes but nothing occurred. Then Rigby panicked. He began to sob wildly into the sweater he'd put on his best friend to try to keep him warm, sacrificing himself to colder temperatures just to seem altruistic. What was the use in getting out of there if there was no Mordecai to get out of there with?

For the second time, he dragged Mordecai around the freezer in search of an exit, trying to be more thorough this time. Maybe they could revive him when they got out of there? Rigby didn't know what to think. All his mind would grant him permission to think was, "It's cold. I gotta get out. Mordecai's dead." And it thought this thought over and over; it was driving the boy to a point of delirium. He set the body down once more, in defeat.

He lied down next to Mordecai's limp corpse and threw his some-what stiff over himself, pressing his face into the dead man's chest. The freezer was so cold that a dead man seemed to provide heat- whether or not that idea was created by Rigby's desperately delusional state of mind. When he closed his eyes, he thought he may have heard a heartbeat or felt a rising chest beneath him. The tears that he thought had frozen up returned, the heat from them seemed distant to him and, after a few moments, set his cheeks into a further state of chill.

"I won't let you die. I promised."

He shut his eyes, exhausted from the muscle contractions brought on by the cold. Maybe he'd die- he'd lovingly welcome death by now- or (according to his inner optimist) he'd take a nap and wake up to the solution like an epiphany. "I love you," was the last thing he said before the sleep seized him whole.

He opened his eyes again, unsure of how much time has past. It felt like a dreamless night when you blink and the sun's back. It felt a bit warmer at first, until he realized the heat was radiating from Mordecai. No, he was sure that Mordecai had died. He checked his pulse repeatedly to no avail, right? But then again he wasn't a professional pulse-taker (his title for nurses in the hospital who take vitals), so there was a chance he was wrong. Still, he was overwhelmed with new-found hope of survival. He stood and pulled Mordecai's legs over his shoulders, dragging the man behind him as he searched for an alternative escape route. He approached the back of the freezer, accidentally kicking over a box on his way, just to discover the hot dogs they'd originally come for were hidden there all along. "Hot dogs, I've been lookin' all over for you."

One of the hot dogs stood up, identifying himself as a leader of the hot dog colony- whose sole purpose was to be eaten. On top of that, the hot dogs promised him a way out. This was too good! Mordecai would look like such an idiot for ever second guessing him! When Mordecai woke up, they set off, crawling through an ice box into the warm July sun.

They experienced some technical difficulties with the hot dogs, but that was nothing compared to the bizarre events that followed. Days, months, years passed. Nothing changed. The world had become extraordinary. They got sucked into a VHS that stole Mordecai's memories, fought a geese monster with a giant baby duck monster, ended (and started) a mini-zombie apocalypse, competed in a really real wrestling competition and so much more. The problems that were created, and somehow always resolved, were more dream-like and incredible than anything before.

Rigby was happy.

Then, one day, while Mordecai and him were raking the leaves, Mordecai turned to him and recalled the hot dog incident.

"Well, I got us outta that one. Hmmph hmmph."

"I gotta hand it to you. That was pretty cool, man."

Rigby chuckled, remembering the utter terror he felt that day at the idea of losing himself, losing Mordecai. He was just glad that the hot dogs showed up-even if they did try to marinate and grill his friends. That was such a good day. He looked up, suddenly suppressed by an overwhelming heat. The sun was freakishly large and bright, appearing to slowly get larger. He brushed off what he assumed was a hallucination caused by the extreme temperatures. "It's really hot today." Mordecai hummed in agreement.

He looked up again. The sun was still getting brighter. He decided to ignore this, though, thinking that he'd deal with it later. No matter the issue, he was confident that he'd be able to fix it. He smirked for a second, recalling the hot dog episode that they'd just discussed fondly. Rigby looked back up at the sun; it was definitely getting larger. In moments, the entire sky was white."Hey Mordecai, isn't that kinda weird?" He asked, turning to where his friend had stood less than a minute ago, now being replaced by a silhouette bright like the sun. Every corner of his vision was filling up with the light. Though he was terrified, part of him felt calm and that alone was beyond his comprehension.

"Mordecai," he whispered as his entire field of vision turned to white.

It was eighth grade again and Rigby was in biology class. They were running an experiment on internal and external temperatures in the human body and the assignment involved sticking your hand in freezing cold water for a minute to see how the body responds. He and Mordecai were partners just this once because fate had drawn the teacher to pull out their names from the jar together while assigning groups. "Dude, can I be the test subject?"

"Yeah, whatever. I don't wanna get frostbite anyway," shrugged Mordecai nonchalantly. He was partially glad that his friend was willing to be the test subject because otherwise, he would've been the one forced to freeze his hand off for a minute.

"Okay, okay. Ready?" Mordecai nodded in response, pressing the 'Start' button on the timer. Rigby shoved his hand into the water, not having prepared himself for the sharp pain that immediately struck him. He tried to pry his hand from the bucket but was unable to. Things hadn't originally gone like that, though. When he'd actually performed this experiment, Mordecai had to hold his down in the water to keep him from pulling back. Now, his hand was locked in there and Mordecai was standing next to him, watching. He couldn't entirely focus on this train of thought due to the hundreds of little knives stabbing into his hand every second. He looked over at the timer; it was half over. His hand began to go numb 47 seconds in, and the pain had died down in order for that sensation to be born. At the minute mark, Rigby ripped his hand from the bucket. To his dismay, not even the warm atmosphere of the room allowed the numbness to go away. As a matter of a fact, the numbness had also begun to appear in his other hand as well, even though it hadn't been anywhere near the water.

He turned to Mordecai, fear blanketing his face; a wave of distraught filled his chest as he looked into his best friend's emotionless eyes. "What's happening to me?" He whispered, feeling like he was about to cry but some greater force prevented his body from doing so as the numbness began at his toes now. Mordecai took a step forward and wrapped his arms around Rigby, who stood like a statue- a boy that could've been petrified by Medusa's glance.

"Shh, it's okay, Rigby." Comforted Mordecai, who gripped his friend as tight as a drowning man did so with his life preserver, only showing much more affection than that. The numbness had spread through his torso now and the panic had been erased, replaced with a feeling of peace.

"Mordecai," he croaked.

"It's okay. I'm here, too."

Mordecai pressed his lips into Rigby's as the feeling of no feeling spread up the his spine through his neck. He focused on the warmth of Mordecai's lips and the safety of his arms, despite not feeling them. Mordecai's lips were so soft, so comforting. There was no fear left- just love. When he sight was gone, he could still feel Mordecai's kiss. Then he felt nothing.


End file.
